


The Name Of The Game

by HandsomeManExpress (DangerousCommieSubversive)



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Bondage, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, M/M, Orgasm Control, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 11:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2506853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerousCommieSubversive/pseuds/HandsomeManExpress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The name of the game is self-control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Name Of The Game

The ties binding his wrists to the headboard are, at least, not leopard print.

Not that it would bother Cass very much if they _were,_ they'd still do the trick just fine, but Cass worries in an abstracted way that they'd clash with his skin. Because he's flushed from hairline to toenails, straining not to talk or moan or make a _single_ sound as Enzo catches one of his nipples between white front teeth.

Enzo bites gently, licks and sucks, a gleam in his eyes as one hand traces aimless designs bare  _centimeters_ away from Cass's dick.

Cass  _has_ to get tied up, is the thing. Otherwise he starts grabbing, and that's not  _allowed._ (He's not allowed to talk, either, but gags freak him out, so he just has to control himself. Which is the name of the game anyway.)

One of his legs twitches in an instinctive effort to try arching up towards Enzo's hand, and Enzo looks up sharply. “I gotta tie your ankles too?”

Cass doesn't move. They've played this one before.

“Shake your head and tell me no.”

Just moving his  _head_ feels good. “No, 'Zo.”

“You gonna stay still? Tell me.”

“I'll stay still, 'Zo.”

“Good.”

(And  _Enzo_ thinks, as he moves down to start lapping at the head of Cass's dick, that having the big guy on his back like this is better than  _anything._ Watching his biceps twitch, feeling his hips jerk a little as Enzo stops licking and goes  _down._ Trying  _so_ hard to be good.)

When Cass is  _near_ but not  _there,_ Enzo stops, smirking at the sound of Cass catching his breath to keep from groaning. He strokes one of Cass's thighs gently and runs his nails along the outline of a muscle. “You're good, Cass. You're good.”

And he crawls up Cass's body like a leopard.

(Enzo's dick is the only gag that Cass can handle.)

One hand on the headboard, the other wrapped in Cass's hair, and Enzo doesn't really  _speak_ Italian, but he can definitely  _curse_ in it. Cass can't understand a damn thing he's saying but it doesn't matter, it's just the background radiation of Enzo fucking his face and looking down at him with love.

(Enzo looks down at Cass and says, between truly incoherent curses, “Not gonna do it, Cass, I'm not gonna come down your  _throat_ again, you're gonna get a  _face_ fulla me, you'd like that, huh?” and Cass's eyes, already darkened, go even darker as his pupils dilate more.)

He thrusts and thrusts and thrusts, the weight of his cock on Cass's tongue is beautifully intense, and then Enzo shudders and pulls out and his hand comes off the headboard and Cass's cheek and lips are covered with come. Droplets get caught in his eyelashes.

Enzo practically bends double to kiss him and then whispers into his mouth, “Go.”

When Cass comes, his back arches hard enough that Enzo almost falls off the bed.

Later, after Cass is untied and Enzo's gotten a washcloth and some beers and gotten him cleaned up and they're both back to some semblance of coherence, they curl up in bed and watch stupid cartoons. Enzo massages Cass's wrists one at a time, scowling with concentration. “I don't like those ties, we oughtta get different ones.”

Cass sips his beer and says, amiably, “I liked 'em ok.”

“I don't wanna  _hurt_ you.”

“I'll go with whatever makes you happy, 'Zo.”

Enzo snorts and leans against Cass's side. “Yeah, well. Don't mean you don't need to take care'a yourself.”

“Thought  _you_ did that.”

“Don't fuckin' argue with me.” Enzo yawns. “I don't have the energy to fuckin'  _spank_ you right now.”

Cass rests his cheek on top of Enzo's head. “Ok, 'Zo.”

 


End file.
